His intention was to pass the rest of the night in the barn of a farm called La Rosiere, where he would be safe from pursuit for the moment, and in the morning could join a party of the “well-affected,” who were in the habit of meeting in the neighbouring parish of S. Lawrence.  Man proposes; but his purpose was destined to failure.  The sky had cleared in the sudden way so common at midnight in these islands.  The guard at Lesbirel’s, turning out to patrol, had at last caught sight of the fire burning on the point above them.  Taking alarm, the sergeant, who was an intelligent and aspiring soldier, guessed that something was amiss, and set off at the head of his men to search for the escaped prey.  Taking the road to the manor, where he had reason to believe Lempriere’s messenger would be found, and spreading his men among the shadows of the bordering walls and hedges, he came upon the fugitive in a lane.  To his challenge, “Who goes there?” he received for answer a pistol-shot, which laid him low in the mire of the lane, with a great flesh wound in the right shoulder; but the soldiers hearing the report ran up from both sides.  Le Gallais was overpowered and secured after a brief resistance.

“Search him and take him to the governor,” said the wounded sergeant, as he swooned from loss of blood.

The following morning found Sir George and his clerk in their old places in the Gorey Castle.  Pale and draggled, Le Gallais confronted his examiners with such firmness as he could gather from a good cause.

“You have nothing against me, Messire de Carteret,” he said firmly.

“If I have not I shall soon make it,” said the governor fiercely.  “Whence were you coming when you pistolled my sergeant?”

“I was going to join my company of militia, in order to be present at morning exercise,” answered the prisoner, undauntedly.  “Your sergeant laid hands on me without warrant or warning on a public thoroughfare, and I shot him in self-defence.  What would you have done in my place?”

“Insolence will not avail you.  If you would save yourself from the gallows, you have but one way.  You must make a clean breast of it.”

Le Gallais made no answer, but stooping down, drew a letter out of his boot and threw it on the table.  The governor started as he read the address:—­

“For the honoured hands of Sir George Carteret, Knight and Baronet, these.”

He cut the string and opened the missive.  After reading a few lines he looked up.

“Clear the room,” he said; and as the clerk and guards obeyed, he added, in a changed tone:—­

“Be seated, M. Le Gallais!

“This letter, as you probably know, is from Mr. Prynne, of the Parliament.  Why did you not bring it to me at once?”

“I should have done so,” answered Le Gallais.

“It contains matter of the utmost moment,” added the governor, after finishing the perusal.  “Are you aware of its contents?”